


Infected with Impatience

by SaintImperator



Category: Bloodborne
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 05:09:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11074704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintImperator/pseuds/SaintImperator
Summary: Just a bit of NSFW fluff. Not much more to say then that. JUST GALS BEING PALS





	Infected with Impatience

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tetsuna-chan](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Tetsuna-chan).



Really it was a minor injury, but I was of a mind to play it up , and get all the care that was coming to me, in one sense of the word or another. She’d been coming to see me for a little while now, the girl who’s eyes didn’t match. I said girl like she was some little thing in frilly dresses, it couldn’t be farther from the truth. She was a woman- that I knew although I didn’t know quite as well as I would’ve liked too. There were- reservations that one needed to have. Caution one needed to take. 

Then there were times when caution could be thrown to the wind- and after sustaining minor bruises and a twisted ankle from a run-in with some Greatwolves, I was tired of just lying in bed. There was nothing to do. Truth be told there were some things to do, but one got tired of being alone. Oh so very tired. 

She was forcing me to be patient, was not even aware of it in fact, but I was already a little cross at her. It was the better way to be before getting started, I found. Atlee had preferred it- insisting I was cute when I was irritated. That never failed to make me more irritated, and before we could even get started she’d be racked with giggles and take several precious minutes of our fleeting time together to calm down. 

But that was years ago. 

Fwahe was not the kind of person that could be sent for- as some of my other nighttime companions could. I had to wait for her to show up. Frustrated I reclined on cushions in my room, the immense space carved out from all the combined back offices of the library. There was plenty of private spaces to be had- places I would’ve killed for as a church girl. Now they felt cavernous, empty without her company. 

Kos, who was I to think she wanted this? I knew so little of her. She was not one to press advantages- not one to initiate. She seemed afraid, timid, as though if she gave herself over to be I would be polluted. I was tired of restrained affections- time to cut the ropes and be loose about it. Her kisses were measured, tongue remaining neatly behind closed lips. I could try all I liked, pull her closer, grip her hair with more force, tilt her chin ever higher but she did not cave to me. 

I was sure she wanted to. There was a lust in her heavy-lidded eyes, two different shades of desire for me to be enchanted by. The shake in her legs was unmistakable- at least, I dreamed, I hoped. It could be a thousand things- the chill in the air, the people surrounding us- any number of things. I had not the consideration to ask. 

She was so strong in appearance, so like something from another land. They spoke of tribes to the south, and in places across the sea who wore very little and had strange rituals all of their own. They called these people savages and barbarians, descriptions fraught with condemnations for those of darker tones. I took their reports cautiously. The woman I intended to make my lover had skin darker then the common Yharnamite and she dressed in cloaks made from the beasts she had killed. Some would call it primal but I found it nothing more than a display of her unusual strength. 

It was unreasonable to think me above admiring. Her shirt did not cover her tight muscled stomach, having the nerve to be better defined then most of the men in our order- and they covered theirs. Her pants- Kos if they could even be thought of as such, truly they were just scraps to cover places I wished to unveil- bade me stare at her legs in their entirety. They were an impossibility of soft curves over hard surfaces, power in every step. 

Fwahe did not allow men to stare at her in such a way- another sign I believed that she had an interest at me. While she snarled at them and chased away their wanton glances, for me it seems, she craned one way or the other so that she might be better inspected. Coincidence I assured myself, nothing more. 

Yet here I lay, like a fainted maiden across the end of my bed waiting for her to come so that I might gaze upon those legs again. I had thought of them as my own fingers pried through private flesh for private pleasures, with enough frequency to bring a blush to my cheeks when she caught me staring. How could any woman resist a girl like that? 

It was cruel beyond cruel for her to keep me waiting so long. Gods above, which did a girl need to pray to too get some action? 

I’d had scare else to do but dream and prepare. My Valkyeries had other duties to see too, and my wounds were not so great as to need waiting on. There were domestic tasks I might have taken up, but I was a wretched cook and did not feel up to cleaning the many bookshelves and crum-covered tables that littered the library we’d made our home. Templeton always got into such a row if I mishelved her books too. Better I stay in my room and not touch anything. 

Surely there was preparation I could do. I know she liked me fancy, with as many needless ribbons and bits of flowers and lacing that one could manage. Funny that she should wear next to nothing and prefer layer upon layer on me- I assumed anyway. We had not spoken about it at great length-but the dresses she complimented were always the ones with trains, trails and all the trappings. I had need to paint my face of course, to try and cover up the strange freckles that plagued me. There was not even that much sun in Yharnam, yet every summer without fail they returned in greater and greater numbers and I could only banish so many with winter clouds. The rest were powedered over, hidden with layer after layer of the magic bottled and remedies women use to make themselves beautiful. 

To what extend did she expect beauty. There was great debate as to how women should wear their hair, and grooming below was no exception. What might she be expecting of me. I could not recall the last time I’d let anyone see my legs above the knee, nor beyond then. As young women Atlee and I had to teach ourselves how to take care of these things- she had been horrified to discover hair on her legs, believing it the onset of infection. How the nuns scolded us for our vanity, but neither of us could abide the scratchy feeling, nor the beast-like connotations. Let us be shorn. 

Of course there was something to be left to the imagination. It wouldn’t do for a lady to reveal all her secrets at once. 

It didn’t do to keep a lady waiting either. It had been three days and six outfits, when was she going to visit? 

When I thought that surely I could not take another day of lying in bed, having my meals brought to me and the miniscule wounds tended too, not another day or I would go crazy- Fwahe came through for me. 

Her sharp nails tapped on my window, which she used almost exclusively at her point of acsess. Earlier I had assured myself that I would be cautious- collected even, but upon hearing her I raced to the window with wild abandon. 

She was the same as ever, matted fur cloak settling uneven on her shoulders, like the slack-jaw of a mouth hung open. She perched on the windowsill with all the poise and grace of a nimble housecat. I let her in, and Fwahe slid into my room with equviliant grace. There were those legs again. 

“Sorry.” She said, “I came as soon as I’d heard- but I was out on the hunt and didn’t-“ God there were too many words. I had waited too long. I wanted to put my finger to her lips, be just as agonizingly slow as I could stand to be, but before I was fully aware of my own intentions I had pressed my lips to hers. There was the foreign taste of flowers on them, sweet and undeniable- like rosewater. She returned my affection, pursing her lips an pushing them back against mine. 

“I missed you too.” I laughed. 

Then, theatrically- as planned- I had to cringe, hands going to my side, curving over in overwrought visages of pain. Her arms hovered over my person. They were nearly on my waist- just a little closer. Why so cautious? I was not a piece of frosted glass. I was not the delicate spun sugar in the windows of pastry shops- a brush of the fingertips would not bruise me- I would not crumble. 

I sat down on the edge of the bed, and she mirrored it. This was the first time we had been in bed together. 

“What happened?” She asked. 

A perfect question. How to keep the smile from my lips- it was impossible, thus I allowed it. 

“I fear I have a terminal affliction.” I said. 

Her hands tightened on the bedsheets, contorting themselves to angry fists. 

“Damnit.” She said under her breath. There was the unfortunate hitch of tears in her speech, why could she not have waited and let me finish. 

“Terminal-“ I continued, “If not medicated.” 

“There’s a cure?” She asked. 

Could the smile tug at me any less? 

“It is an affliction known as lovesickness, and I’m afraid the only cure for it, my dear, is you.” 

Like precious, polished things her eyes sparkled and she bit her bottom lip in the most abusive manner. How was I supposed to wait for her to come around. She was not angry, she was not sad- I could not read her stony face. 

“It’s very simple.” I said, “It works like this.” 

I took my hand, over her hand and placed it on my waist. She rested it gently there, again like I was something breakable. I let out an annoyed huff and locked eyes with her. Again lips against lips, flesh against flesh. I let my weight fall against her and finally, her fingers tensed, gripping my side with strength anything but delicate. I pushed her down, back onto the bed. 

“Yes, that’s the way.” I said. “And your other hand goes here.” 

That one I placed on my own breast. Her face flushed. I was close enough to her that I could feel the heat of it on my own face. 

“Frigga, I-“ She started. 

Hesistant but she did not remove her hand. 

“What, love?” I sighed. 

When had this happened? This lack of patience- this infernal lack of concern for the cares of my partner. I could not be this way. I steadied myself, and brushed a lock of hair behind my ear. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” She said. 

I laughed, “Fwahe I am so tired of you being gentle, of everyone treating me like a porcelain doll.” 

“You’re just so-“ 

“I’m just so hopelessly attracted to you.” I interrupted. 

Her lips shook as she searched for a way to respond. My deviant fingers traced her collar bone, running themselves over the clasp of her cloak. I raised an eyebrow to ask permission, and she nodded with all the eagerness I had hoped for. I unwound rope from toggles and it was as though not just the skin of whatever beast she wore came away- but all her reservations too. 

The hand on my breast tightened, squeezing, and now I was the one blushing. I gasped and she chuckled. The hand that a proper lady would’ve left at my waist slid down lower, gripping me in sumptuous curves, as she effortlessly turned me over, placing me on my back against the bed. It squeaked in protest. 

“I find you incredibly beautiful.” Fwahe said. Her voice brimmed with confidence, but the red flush never left her cheeks. I tried to kiss it away, but it only made it worse. 

“Come now.” I said, “I cannot possibly expect to get well if kept in these clothes.” 

She smiled. This she had been waiting for. 

It was too many layers, damn each and every one of them. My vanity came away slowly, and her fingers were quickly tangled in lace and lacings. I had to help her, guiding her hands over my flesh. She was cautious at first but quickly became frustrated with all of the fabric coverings. At last she was tearing away at things, gripping tighter to gain leverage. She seemed almost unaware of her hand on my thigh while she strained to take off a boot, condemning it for being so long. 

When at last the layers had all come away, I need not make any more speeches of sickness and instruction. They were childish and silly games, but they had worked. 

“You too.” I said. 

She laughed and shook her head. 

“Love that’s not fair-“ I protested. 

She did not quiet me with a finger to the lips, but this time took my silence with a kiss. Her hands were in my hair and snaking downward, pulling my hips against hers. My hands were insistent, hooking themselves in her waistband and pulling downward, everything coming away at once. She was too focused on that kiss to blush, this time allowing her tongue to do as it was want, and finally it made its way behind my lips. We were locked together, and on my bed at last. 

She was past permission, and suddenly, as surprising as her tongue making its way between my teeth, her fingers slid between other lips. I could feel my thighs shaking as she began to indulge in her first taste of forbidden fruit. When her lips broke away from mine I let out an embarrassing series of gasps and moans. 

“Oh?” Fwahe asked, “Is this medication not quite right for you li-“ 

“It’s perfect.” I panted, gripping her tightly from behind and pressing her closer- not that there was any space between us to begin with. Her fingers, the same ones that fumbled with corset strings now curled and uncurled inside of me. They were anything but crude and fumbling now- she knew exactly what she was doing. 

“Fwahe I want to-“ 

She kissed me again, the moved downward from my lip, kissing my neck, making patterns across my shoulders all while her fingers never slowed. Now her lips were on my breasts and my hands, mirroring my hands which had moved upwards straining to unbutton her shirt. She tried to push me away. 

“Fwahe you’re not being fair.” I whined. 

She grinned and with a deft flick of the wrist set me moaning again. I lost my grip on the buttons, bracing myself against her while she increased pace. Now I feared indelicacy. My hands were on her waist, her shoulder, pressing harder than ever before. 

“Fwahe I-“ 

She nipped me, then brought her lips back to mine, cutting off the yelp before it happened. Seconds later I was shaking, all strength gone as the oncoming waves of pleasure crashed over me. I was certain the whole library echoed with moans as she coaxed me over the edge. I reached my climax in undignified abandon, wanton and desperate as any of the shameless brothel girls. 

Covered in sweat and spent already, I stayed pressed against her. She withdrew her fingers and gently laid me down over the rumpled bedding. 

“Shall I think my lady cured?” Fwahe asked with a rueful tilt of the head. 

“Mmm.” I said. 

She laid beside me, brushing sweaty strands of silver hair away from my forehead. I must look a mess. 

“You know,” She said, “I think I’m coming down with sickness too.” 

“Oh really?” I asked. 

“Most definitely.” She replied. 

“How, very unfortunate.” I said. 

“Indeed. Won’t you cure it for me, Frigga dearest?” She asked, batting eyelashes and pursing her lips so sweetly she might’ve stolen all the sugar from the world. 

I smiled, “I think I might be able to work something out.” 

Our fingers locked together, lip against lip against back against bed, we knotted ourselves together and tried to find a way to cure this horrible horrible scourge that infected us all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading- please let me know what you thought.


End file.
